The Sweet Escape
by hopeful-canyon
Summary: Luby... A life together, planning a wedding, a little son...Bliss...AU
1. How You Know

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to the best beta reader in the world, NaomiP! Even with a migraine, she gave fantastic advice.

I'm still pretty new to fanfics, but here we go. I hope to get a wedding and happy ending to this fanfic. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own ER, County General or any of the characters…

Chapter 1: How You Know

All appeared peaceful in apartment 353. For its residents, it had been a rough year. From the day of the shoot-out and almost losing Joe, to the NICU, to the trial, to the hostage-taking, added to the everyday craziness of being ER doctors, and ER Chief had made the lives of Luka and Abby very…stressful.

The whole hostage-taking still had the family unnerved. Once they'd all returned home, Joe had wanted nothing other than to be held by his father, as though he could sense that he'd almost lost Luka. He fingered Luka's lips, prompting a smile to cheer his father. Abby had hovered nervously around Luka, unsure of what to say; if she should ask the questions that lit up every nerve ending within her brain. Even so, she snuck in hugs whenever she could, and rubbed Luka's arm affectionately. Luka had cajoled his son light-heartedly, but distractedly, the events of earlier clearly weighing heavily on his conscious.

It had been Ray who had patched Luka up at the hospital after the incident. He was confident that Luka's hand would eventually have full function in a few weeks, but there were cuts etched deep into the skin, and two broken fingers from his hand getting crushed by the vise. For the entire next day, Luka ignored his injured hand completely, letting Abby change the bandage, but not examining the wound himself. The scars were too fresh and too painful, literally and figuratively.

"What do you want for supper, Chinese or Thai take-out?" Abby asked from the kitchen table where she sat with the phone and take-out menus.

"I'm not hungry," Luka said flatly from the couch where he sat with Joe and his infamous green frog, flipping through the TV Guide.

"Luka, you're eating," Abby said firmly. He'd only eaten half a toast and a cup of coffee all day.

Luka sighed. "Order whatever you want," he said.

Abby stood from the table and walked to the couch, lifting Joe into his playpen. She took a seat beside Luka and rubbed his thigh comfortingly. Not wanting to be cold to her, Luka took one of her hands with his good one and leaned his head on her shoulders. She played with his dark hair with her other hand.

"Hey, talk to me," she pleaded.

"What's there to talk about?"

"You tell me."

"Abby, it's just too much," he said quietly.

Abby watched him intently for a moment. His guardedness wasn't unusual; that's just how Luka was. But he was still starting to worry her. She sat with him on the couch, letting him rest on her shoulder. Together, they silently watched their son entertain himself with a pop-up book in his play pen.


	2. Giving and Getting

Chapter 2: Giving and Getting

Abby gazed at Luka from across the bed. His back was towards her. He'd gone to bed early, but Abby didn't feel the essence of sleep in the room. She whispered his name, but received no response. She gently rubbed his arm, and could feel the tenseness of his muscles, and knew: he was only pretending to be asleep. She slipped between the covers herself and humoured him. She pressed a light kiss, the kind you give to sleeping loved ones, on his forehead.

When she woke up a few hours later, Abby was startled to find herself alone in the bed. The lights of her alarm clock told her that it was 4:11, and the thin line of light at the bottom of the door told her that Luka was up. She sleepily raised herself out of bed and slipped on a robe and slippers. She trudged silently down the stairs and saw Luka on the couch, flipping through the photo albums.

"Hey," Abby whispered hoarsely, taking a seat beside him.

"Morning," he whispered back, a big smile plastered on his face. Abby eyed him suspiciously. Why was he all of a sudden so cheery?

"What are you up to?"

"Joe started crying, so I got up. When he fell back asleep, I noticed how big he was. I wanted to look at his baby pictures."

"I see," Abby said, snuggling close to him and smiling at Joe's first picture home. "Look at how little he was!"

"I know. He grew up so fast!" Luka grinned, sliding the album a little more towards Abby. "I still remember that day. Your mother read to him all day."

"Ah, yes," laughed Abby. "She even started reading him the newspaper." Luka wrapped his arm more tightly around her while Abby flipped through the pages. They laughed at the picture of their son with banana mush all over his face, and at the picture of grinning Morris holding him at the ER, oblivious to the huge puddle of spit-up on his shirt.

Both jumped when the alarm started to _beep_ from the bedroom. Abby ran to turn it off, while Luka stood to make coffee. While Abby went to get Joe from his crib, Luka started toasting bread and scrambling eggs, all one-handedly.

"Where's daddy, Joe?" Abby cooed in her baby voice.

Luka heard the cue and ducked under the counter for their game.

"Is he here?" Abby said playfully, looking around a corner. "No. Hmmm.Let's see. Is daddy…under the table? No. Is he…down here?" She played, peeking under the counter. "There he is! We found him!"

"You found me!" cried Luka, taking the baby from his mother's arms to smother him with kisses. He buckled Joe in his high chair and all three began to eat breakfast.

"Let's go for a walk today," Luka suggested between bites of egg.

"You sure it's not too cold?" Abby asked.

"No. We'll bundle him up."

"Okay. We can go to the park. Maybe Theresa will be there."

"Theresa?" Luka asked.

"She's a woman with 6 kids, and she's always at the park with them."

"6 kids!" Luka exclaimed.

"Yeah, two are foster. The youngest is about the same age as Joe. She's so sweet. One time I forgot to pack diapers and she offered me one."

"Well, who knows, maybe she'll be there. Pass me your plate," said Luka, clearing the dishes.

All morning, Luka played with Joe. He coddled the boy and played peek-a-boo, and even napped with him cuddled in his chest. His affection wasn't unusual; Luka always adored his son, but Abby still worried at Luka's sudden cheerfulness today.

"Hey you," Luka whispered seductively into Abby's ear while snaking his long arms around her. She'd been quiet all morning.

"Hey yourself," Abby replied, smiling as Luka pressed a kiss on her cheek. She took his hand and pulled him to the couch. She sat with him and let him stroke her hair.

"Are you alright?" Abby burst out.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"It's just that- well you were so down yesterday, and today it's as if nothing happened."

Luka sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "This morning, before you found me, I was preparing for another full day of moping. Then I looked at Joe asleep, and wondered, what if things had gone differently on the roof? Would he really have to live without a father? Would you really have raise him alone? Both of you, so innocent, lives changed forever because of me. On the roof, I thought of you two as well. How much I wanted both of you."

Abby looked deep into Luka's eyes. They were lost, unreadable.

"Ames wanted to hurt me. He didn't want me to have you guys. Ames is gone, and I can't let him still win. I can't lose you two. Abby, I know we don't really say it, I guess that's just how we are," Luka's lost eyes focused on his lovers' big brown ones. "I love you."

His declaration didn't beg her to say it back. He didn't need her to say it back. But she gave it to him anyways. Abby pressed her head into he chest.

"I love you."


	3. Sad Sad Sadness

Chapter 3: Sad Sad Sadness

Abby laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed, even though it was sad. Simon, poor Simon. His story was so sad, heartbreaking, but Abby laughed nevertheless. Simon wanted her to laugh. He said laughter was the soundtrack to his life. He said it made him happy, and he wanted to go happy.

She looked around her for a minute. Most of the night staff was crowded in the trauma room, laughing at Simon's joke about a golfer and his pants. Everyone was just living in the moment, forgetting that outside the weather was crap, that two rooms down a bitchy middle-aged woman was waiting for her toe to be examined, even that they were all sporting blood, vomit or snot on their scrubs. They were letting themselves enjoy what was going on, they let themselves be happy. Simon, missing out on the most important night of his life, was letting himself be happy here and now, on a gurney, on quite possibly his last night alive. How often did she let herself be happy?

"Hey," Abby said to Simon, coming in to check on him.

"Hey. How'd I do?" Simon looked at her with big eyes, a smirk on his face. Normally a person in his state would be depressing to look at, but Simon retained an air of contentedness. He had accepted his fate.

"You were great. Anything I can do for you?"

"No. I mean, a good cigar and some vodka would be _to die for_, but I know there's a no-smoking policy in here."

Abby smiled gently. She felt compelled to ask him something. "How did your dad die?"

Simon closed his eyes for a moment, making Abby regret her question. What if she made him upset just before he died? Finally, after a few moments, Simon opened his eyes and smiled slightly.

"It's a funny story. It was the day after Halloween, and my old man was putting up Christmas lights. He's up on the ladder before it's even light out. The paper boy was still tired from trick-or-treating the night before. My dad is stepping off the ladder, he's almost at the bottom. He's in mid-step when the kid tosses the paper completely off course, and it smokes him right in the head. He fell down and hit his head on the driveway. Isn't that hilarious? I mean, who dies from a newspaper? Who puts their Christmas lights up at 6 in the morning, the day after Halloween?"

Abby looked at Simon carefully. He had closed his eyes again, but whispered sleepily: "My dad…Ha, newspaper…Halloween." As he drifted into a sleep, Abby left the room. Her shift was over now, and a remarkable shift it had been.

Abby walked to the EL. Her life had been anything but extraordinary. She knew she always blamed it on her mother. Maggie had made it impossible for her to have a decent childhood, Maggie made her go insane, Maggie this, Maggie that. An abortion, a divorce, alcoholism and many failed relationships had been her life. Abby was a pessimist, she knew that. But that day in the OR, it had been Maggie who made her have hope for her son's life. Joe was alive now, healthy and happy at home with his father. Her life could be happy now. Was she afraid? What was she afraid of? Why was she afraid? Abby still held back, she was cautious. She didn't let herself be as happy as she could be, to live her live as fully as it could. What if Luka hadn't made it? It was a difficult thought to think, but it had been a possibility. It was important, so important to enjoy life, while you had it. Sometimes, you have to take risks.

Abby nearly ran up the stairs to the apartment. Her pulse raced as she turned the door knob. There he was.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

"I was just putting the CD's on the iPod. We don't need all these."

"Can we talk?"

"Sure."

Abby sat on the couch before even removing her coat. She took his hand in hers. It was warm and soft, and so nice to hold.

"Can you ask me again?"

"Ask you what?" Luka said softly, clearly confused.

"Have you ever wanted anything so bad, but it scared the hell out of you?"

"Abby?"

"When you were on the roof, I kept thinking. I was so scared, Luka."

"I know you were."

"Listen, I know I didn't want to before, but I changed my mind, and I want you to ask me again. Ask me to marry you."

Abby could read Luka's smile: he was wondering if this was for real. Did the cynical Abby really want him to ask her to marry him? She gave him a pair of smiling, assuring eyes and a slight nod. She watched as he responded with an even bigger smile. He reached for her other hand. Their bodies formed a circuit, and each could feel the energy emitting from the other one; both were full of adrenaline, and were sharing it with the other. They stood in unison. Luka knelt down.

"Abigail Lockhart, will you marry me?"

Abby broke their connection and stroked his cheek.

"Yes."

Luka jumped up and lifted Abby into his arms. Their giggles were interrupted only by sweet kisses everywhere.


	4. Marrying Him

Chapter 4: Marrying Him

Abby awoke to find herself in Luka's arms. He held her in every nice way: lovingly, protectively, innocently, sexily. He slept with a slight smile on his face, dreaming nice dreams. His hair was tousled to perfection. His 5 o'clock shadow, barely visible, eluded sexiness. Abby examined his face for a moment, and then concluded that he was beautiful. Okay, so everyone knew that Luka was hot, handsome, sexy, a real looker. But the only suitable description for this man in this moment was 'beautiful'. What in the world was she doing with him? She was marrying him. She was marrying him? She was marrying him!

Unable to disturb this wonderful sight, Abby dragged herself out of the room silently to take a shower. Both had to work today, though she wished she could spend the day in bed with Luka.

Standing in the hot water, Abby realized that she felt different. She was calmly ecstatic, if that was possible. She felt like she had conquered the world! She was engaged to Luka, a delight by itself, but she had surpassed her fear, her fear of commitment, of rejection, of whatever it was that hadn't to get married before. Abby's thoughts were interrupted by a rush of cool air. She turned around, but the problem was already fixed, and there was Luka.

"How about some company?" he purred.

"That would be lovely," she smiled.

"Lovely? Since when do you say 'lovely'?" Luka chuckled, massaging shampoo into her hair.

"Why? What's wrong with 'lovely'? I happen to think it's a very nice word." She replied defensively.

"You're getting soft aren't you? You've been dreaming of white dresses and roses, haven't you?" he kidded, rinsing out his own shampoo.

Abby gave him a look, but didn't deny anything.

Long after the two were dried off, they sat waiting for the EL.

"Uh, Luka, um, do you think we could keep our news just between us for a while? I just think I want to…enjoy this, together," Abby asked tentatively. "I mean, if you want to-".

"You're right," Luka agreed, wrapping his arm around her. "Let's not say anything just yet."

"But that doesn't mean we can't start…planning? A wedding?"

Luka grinned.

"Sure. But I don't want anything…overdone? You know? Just our family and close friends, Joe. What do you think?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Abby nodded. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the arrival of the train made her abandon her train of thought.

All day at work, Abby and Luka flashed each other smirks, or raised their eyebrows suggestively. They enjoyed playing this little game with everyone else at the hospital. Although the hospital was too busy for anyone to pay much attention to Abby and Luka's little flirtations, they were still curious as to why they were behaving so peculiarly.

"Mr Fredricks, I'm Dr. Lockhart. It says here you've been having shortness of breath."

"Yes, I've had asthma for years."

While treating her patient, Abby couldn't help thinking of the last time she'd treated someone with a similar case. It had been her father.

"Abby, your guy in curtain 3 is crashing!" called Chuny.

"Coming!"

Hours later, when their shifts were finished, Abby and Luka walked out of the ER holding hands, giggling. Abby rested her head on Luka's shoulder. She sighed.

"I'm exhausted! Let's get take-out tonight," she suggested.

"Good idea. I think I'll call my father later tonight. Tell him our good news. Do you mind?"

"No, tell your father." The word echoed in her mind.

"Luka, do you think-. Should I try to talk to my father again?"

Silence.

"Do you want to see him again?"

"I don't know. I mean, he's never had anything to do with my life. He's never made any effort to be a parent to me until now. He just showed up and just expected me to accept him."

Luka nodded.

"But he is my father. And I never really gave him a chance to explain…"

"Abby, it's your decision. If talking to him is just going to upset you, then don't do it. But if you think that there's a chance that you might be able to forgive him, to make him apart of your life, then maybe you should talk to him."

"Yeah," Abby said absently.


	5. Unsure

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I had a terrible case of writer's block that still hasn't completely remedied itself.

**The lyrics are from ****All At Once**** by The Fray, my favourite band of all time.**

Chapter 5: Unsure

Luka watched as Abby dialled the phone and hung it up. Dialled and hung up. She was unsure, hesitant.

He, too, was unsure. Part of him, the protective part, hated her father for abandoning her, for causing her so much hurt. The other part, the part that was a son _and_ a father, wanted Abby to have a father in her life, something that he had and loved so much. His own father was much different than Abby's, but he figured that Abby would still benefit from having him in her life. Luka himself was a father, and he knew that he would hate not to be apart of his child's life. He couldn't imagine how it would feel to have your own child reject you, but then again, he didn't know how a parent could abandon their child in the first place.

Abby came down from the bedroom, phone in hand.

"Not tonight," she said finally.

Luka wrapped her into an embrace.

"Whenever you're ready," he assured her.

"I keep thinking…I keep thinking of walking down the aisle. Will it be alone? Will my mother walk me? Will you walk me? Every little girl always fantasizes about her wedding and imagines walking down the aisle with her father. I know I'm far from conventional, but…"

"But what?" Luka prompted.

Abby paused. She hesitated, but when she said the words, they were firm and thought out.

"I want my father to give me away."

"Then he will."

Abby stepped out of his embrace and sat at the table.

"Luka, maybe this is one of those times when I shouldn't get my hopes up. Maybe I should just- forget this whole thing. Pretend I never even met the guy," Abby said pessimistically. She knew she had a way of making herself be unhappy. She liked to convince herself that she didn't deserve the best.

"Can you really do that?" Luka asked softly, completely non-judgemental.

Abby ran her fingers through her thick hair. She didn't look Luka in the eye. She knew he was right. He was always right.

"No. But I can't do the other either. Why does this have to be so hard?" Abby whined.

_We never know what's wrong without the pain_

_Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same._

Abby slept fitfully. The bed, usually a haven of soft blankets and lovers' sweet skin was transformed into a jungle of entwining and withholding arms of sheets that were damp with sweat. The pillows were uselessly limp and uncomforting, and every spring pierced into her side until she was convinced she was sleeping on a bed of wrenches, and she had difficulty locating Luka with her wild hands. She slipped in and out of miserable wake and senseless, incomplete dreams. In them were flashes of a veiled bride, of bitter words, of someone crying.

When morning finally arrived, Abby stepped out of bed feeling oddly renewed. She was going to do it.


	6. Perfection Will Not Come

Sorry it's been taking me so long to update. This chapter was done a while ago, I just never uploaded it. Once again these lyrics (well, just one line) , and the title come from All At Once by The Fray 

**This is going to be a long one, so buckle up.**

Chapter 6: Perfection Will Not Come

"Hello, this is Abby Lockhart," Abby said into the receiver. She kept her tone stoic, naked of any emotion.

"Oh- um, Abby, I'm so glad you called," replied The Man Who Was Her Father. His uncertainty was evident, and Abby wasn't sure if that made this harder or easier.

"I was wondering if we could talk," she said, still not allowing him to read whether it was to make amends or to yell at him again.

"Uh, sure, that would be fine," he said.

"Can you meet me at Mama Beth's Diner? In about an hour?" Abby closed her eyes. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

"I'll be there," he confirmed happily.

Abby turned around to face Luka.

"This is actually going to happen," she said with panic in her big brown eyes.

Luka rubbed her arm affectionately.

"It is. You're ready for it, though," he said confidently.

Abby changed into some old jeans and a plain long sleeved green shirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and slipped on a pair of runners. As she put on her coat by the door, Luka came over holding Joe and gave her an encouraging kiss. She smiled bravely and kissed Joe's cheek. He giggled.

She chose a booth close to the corner. They would need privacy, but Abby still wasn't ready to be completely alone with him yet. She took her coat off and ordered a coffee. Eddie arrived right on time, taking a seat opposite from her.

"Hi," greeted Abby.

"Hello," nodded Eddie.

A waitress came to their table, and Eddie ordered a coffee for himself. There was an awkward silence as both sat sipping their caffeine. Neither one was sure how to initiate conversation. Once the tension was too much for Abby to tolerate, she spoke up.

"I want to understand. I want you to give me reason not to hate you. Why did you leave?"

Eddie fidgeted slightly, looked up for a moment and then down into his coffee.

_Perfection will not come._

"Your mother and I- we met at the laundromat. I was 26, and I had just moved away from Louisiana, where I grew up." A smile appeared on his face. "I was looking for an adventure, so I left for Minnesota, where my cousin was living. Until that point, my mother always did my laundry for me.

"So I was trying to figure out how to work the washer, getting pretty frustrated, and Maggie walked up to me, and explained exasperately that I was supposed to sort my clothes first, 'Don't you know anything?!' So she helped me sort out my clothes, measured my detergent for me and then we sat together waiting for our laundry." Eddie took a drink of his coffee and then continued.

"I was an arrogant son of a bitch, and asked her if would like to do my laundry for me for the rest of my life. I'll never forget Maggie's expression as I said that. She said that I was a typical sexist jerk and slapped me right across the face." Upon hearing this, Abby gasped, but couldn't say she was surprised.

Eddie grinned. "Right after she killed my ego, she turned around and stood beside her washing machine, not even glancing my way. Something about her though- her fire, her independence, made me want to be with her. A week later we met at the same Laundromat, and I asked her out. She flat out refused me, went on a rant about how men always expected to women to be impressed by them, yada yada yada. Then she gave me her number."

Abby found herself laughing before she could stop herself. This was definitely the same Maggie she knew.

"So that's how you two became you two. What happened after that?" Abby asked.

"Well, we got married. Had you. By then Maggie's bipolar really set in. I would come home from work some days to both of you crying. Sometimes she slept all day. Sometimes she stayed up all night, walking around and muttering to herself. She would have fits and throw things at me. Some days, Maggie refused to let me in the house, and started screaming that she hated me, accusing me of being with other women. It got to the point where I'd had enough unhappiness. I left."

Abby had just gotten to the point of empathy, understanding what a miserable life Eddie must have been having with Maggie, until those last two words.

"Oh, no need for clarification there," she spat out cruelly.

Eddie rubbed his forehead defeatedly.

"I know it was bad. It was terrible. I know that now. I do. I should never have abandoned a woman in that state, and I should never have left you and your brother alone with her," Eddie said strongly, his tone intensifying. "But I was a young man, I had my own dreams. Having kids was Maggie's idea, not mine. I went along with it because I loved her. And you and your brother were loved. I just wanted my life back. Maggie became hard to love, my life was miserable, so I wanted another chance."

Abby was shocked at what she heard. Eddie hadn't even wanted kids. What the hell was he doing here then? He had successfully ridded of them their entire lives, he didn't have to have anything to do with them for the rest of it, so why was he messing with her mind?

"Abby, I know this is hard for you. I don't blame you at all for whatever feelings you harbour towards me. I deserve them all. I would hate to think that I have hurt you by trying to meet you, but I would also hate to die and know that I never even _tried_ to right my wrongs."

"You think having coffee with me qualifies as trying to _right your wrong_?" Abby demanded accusingly.

"No, I don't. You were the one who set this up, were you not? And I'm glad you did." Eddie said softly.

Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't tell if this was helping them or not. One moment she felt sorry for Eddie, the next she wanted to slap him.

Eddie sensed that Abby was feeling scrambled and unsure, and decided to try a different approach.

"It's getting a little noisy in here. Why don't we go for a walk?" he suggested.

Abby hated the control Eddie had achieved in their discussion, but admitted to herself that she couldn't be in this place anymore. She went to the restroom quickly while Eddie paid for their coffees.

Once in the cool air, Abby and Eddie walked in silence. They weren't too close to each other that their arms might touch each other in mid-stride, but they stayed close enough to be heard over the wind. They walked past Abby's apartment, tempting her to forget this entire morning and go home to Joe and Luka. Something inside of her kept walking though, until they reached a bench.

Abby sat first, a sign Eddie took to mean that she had cooled off and was ready to talk some more. He sat closer to the other side of the bench.

"Abby, as much as I know what I did was wrong, I like to believe that it was meant to be. I believe everything happened for a reason. This all happened because it was supposed to make you stronger. Look at you now. You're a doctor!"

Abby considered what Eddie had said and then spoke herself.

"You think that this has been my life all along? That living with a crazy mom instantly made me strong and then I became who I am. That's not how it all happened. I was a loser in school. I married a jerk to feel accepted, fucked that all up and then had a series of incredibly sucky days, which turned into months, which turned into years. I was unable to maintain any type of relationship, I became a fucking alcoholic with no life and no money. I _just_ found happiness, you know." Abby ranted furiously. Who was this asshole to think he was responsible for making her life what it was now when he had made it a mess.

Eddie sat so still, Abby thought for a minute he had been ignoring her. She was about to yell at him some more when she noticed a tear fall to his lap. Instantly Abby regretted being so sharp with him. They both took a moment to compose themselves, and then Eddie spoke.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I really am. I understand if you need to hate me the rest of my life. I don't want you to, but I understand. I hate that I've caused you so much pain, that I did all that I did to you, or didn't do. There is nothing more for me to say," Eddie sobbed pleadingly.

Abby didn't know if it was the tears, or the words he used, but she was moved by this scene. She kind of wanted to hug the guy. She almost did, but stopped herself. She instead got off the bench and kneeled down in front of the man.

"I need to go. I'll see you later, maybe," she said quietly, and walked away, leaving the man with his tears.


	7. Sinful Living

_Okay, so this is just a little short one… I will admit, I've lost whatever inspiration I had when I started this, but I figured it's best to keep trucking along for the present, since I don't really want to give it up. Thanks to anyone who is actually reading this, it means a lot to know that your writing is actually receiving an audience. _

Chapter 7: Sinful Living

"Do we invite the babysitter?" asked Abby sceptically. She was lounging on the couch with her feet propped on Luka's lap and a bowl of popcorn on hers as they compiled a possible guest list for the wedding.

Luka shrugged. "Don't ask me, I'm not Martha Stewart."

Abby smirked. "You mean to tell me that I did not conceive a child with the convict who knits ponchos and scrapbooks? I don't believe it."

"It all just depends on how big you want this. Let's just make it soon. I don't know how much longer I can live in sin," teased Luka.

"Oh, really, big guy? You know, if it bothers you so much, we could just…_not_…live sinfully for a while," Abby teased back.

"You couldn't last a week," Luka challenged, stroking Abby's tired feet.

"Would anyone come from Croatia?" Abby asked after a split-second's hesitation.

Luka pondered for a moment.

"Maybe my brothers. Jakov, maybe. I'm not so sure about Niko."

"What are your brothers like?" Abby asked, a sudden curiosity awoken within her. "Do they look like you?"

Luka smirked. "The Kovacs are all tall. And, as you know, incredibly handsome. But I'm the most handsome one," Luka chuckled. "Jakov is the middle child. He was always quiet, reading books in his room. He's always there though, to talk to. He always listens. And Niko- well, he's the baby. Always my mother's little pet. He's loud, opinionated. Half the time he doesn't even know what he's talking about. He loves football- soccer. We used to play together all the time. I would stand in goal – two trees, and he would shoot on me."

"You miss them, don't you?" Abby said softly, interested in this rare tidbit of information he was relaying to her.

Luka thought for a moment. "There's a lot I miss. There's some things that you have to live without, though. I wouldn't trade what I have know for any of that. This is how it was meant to be."

"Why don't you call them more?" Abby continued. She suddenly wanted more of his family.

Luka sighed. "You're sure curious tonight." He smiled as Abby opened her mouth to respond. "It's okay, I don't mind. I should have told you more before. My brothers have their own lives. Sometimes it's too sad to call them. Niko was upset when I left for America. He said I was running away. He's mostly over it now, I think, but for a long time, he didn't talk to me. Jakov, too, wanted me to stay, wanted to help me himself. He was a little more understanding though. He knew it was the right thing for me. He was the first one I called when I got off the plane. It broke my heart to talk to him. Over the years, we've just lost touch. Only my father is the one I talk to often enough. He fills me in, and I imagine he lets them know what's going on with me."

Abby drank it all in, imagining two dark, tall, slightly less handsome men. She imagined the one with a soccer ball in his hands. She imagined what they would be like around Luka; what Luka would be like around them.

"I can't wait to meet them," she said finally.

"Well, we need to set a date first," Luka said practically.

"Alright then," Abby said, picking up a calendar from the coffee table. "How about May….16th?"

Luka grinned. "You just pulled that date out of the air, didn't you?"

"So what if I did? Just make sure to get us that day, and a few days afterward, off," justified Abby.

"Sounds good. You should quit your job as a doctor and become a full time wedding planner," Luka joked.

Abby glared at Luka before throwing a handful of popcorn at him.


	8. A Vision in Green

_Thanks for the reviews, it means a lot to me. Never can have enough though, so keep reviewing!!! Things will be progressing a little bit faster now, hopefully. _

Chapter 8: A Vision in Green

Abby lifted the stroller out of the car and then Joe out of his car seat.

"This is just between us two, got it?" she said to the child as she buckled him into the stroller. Then she looked around suspiciously, as if she was a child stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. She had a bad feeling that someone she knew would pop out and see her and ask her what she was doing.

As she walked down the street, she couldn't help glancing at one of the shops out of the corner of her eye. She slowed her walk. The shop had a sign that read:

_"Bernice's Bridal Boutique" _

Abby hesitated before opening the door. When she walked in, she was blinded by the selection of white before her. There were dresses everywhere.

"Well hello! You must be the bridesmaid! Come on in! Joanne is just in the fitting room. She will be right out," greeted a large, short woman.

"Excuse me?" Abby said nervously.

"You are Joanne's older sister, her maid of honor?" the woman asked.

'No," Abby corrected, wanting to sink right into the carpet.

"Oh, my mistake. How can I help you?"

"Um, well, I uh, I'm getting married," Abby stuttered.

The woman looked down at the little boy in the stroller for just a split second before clapping her hands together.

"Ohhhh! Of course! Mademoiselle, you've come to right place, then!" she exclaimed.

Abby really wanted to sink into the carpet now.

"Have I?" she said.

"When's the big day?" the woman smiled largely and falsely.

"Well, hopefully it's not a big day. We want to keep it very low key. I don't want anything extravagant for a dress," Abby cautioned.

The woman stared for a moment. "Okay," she said slowly.

"How about this?" suggested the woman.

Abby inspected the selection that was held up.

"A big seller for our customers aged 40 and above," continued the saleslady.

Abby grimaced as she looked at the long, puffy, hideous dress. It had long sleeves and a high collar.

"I don't think it's really…me," Abby responded finally.

"How about this one then?"

This time the woman held up a short number. It had a halter neck, appeared to be made out of spandex, and would probably only reach her ass.

"A lot of 'mothers slash brides' have chosen this one," the woman stated.

"As in hoochie mamas?" Abby clarified. "I think maybe I should just leave."

"You know, lots of women are having children out of wedlock these days," the woman called after Abby. "It's nothing to be ashamed about!"

"Thanks!" Abby called back sarcastically.

Later, as Abby stood in line at the grocery store check-out, she noticed on rack of magazines a copy of _Bridal Bliss_, sitting next to the latest US magazine. **The 7 Best Photographers of the Year! **the former had as a headline. The second was not much better**: Longoria-Parker Nuptials-Exclusive Photos Inside! The ring, the cake, THE DRESS!**

Abby picked up the first one and flipped guiltily through it. The bulk of the magazine was models posing in a variety of dresses. There was an article about budgeting a wedding. Abby jumped as she learned how much a conventional wedding would cost a person in 2007. She was planning on a slightly sub-conventional wedding, but still. It was absurd. How much had her wedding with Richard cost? She hadn't a clue. His parents had paid for it, in exchange for practically having veto power over every single decision.

By the time she and Joe were home, Abby was ready to crash on the couch. Did planning a wedding have to be so stressful? _Ha_, she thought to herself. _I should have known what I was getting myself into. _

"Back so soon?" greeted Luka, descending from the bedroom. "How'd it go?" he asked skeptically.

Abby sighed. "You don't even want to know."

Luka gave her a small sympathetic smile. "I just got off the phone with my father. He doesn't think he'll be able to come down. Same with my brothers."

Abby frowned. She was sincerely disappointed with this news. "Really? There's no chance at all?"

"Unlikely," Luka replied, removing his son's shoes. "He didn't say much on the phone, except that he hasn't been feeling great lately and was going to see a doctor next week."

"That's too bad. I was looking forward to meeting them," Abby said sadly.

"You will one day," Luka said optimistically. "Did you find a dress?"

"I said you don't want to know," answered Abby, half-jokingly and half-serious. She poured herself a cup of coffee at the counter and leaned over the counter. "What did Danjiella's dress look like?" Abby said the words before she had even realized it. She thought maybe she had sounded too upfront, too blunt. It had been, however, something she had wondered about during the day. She remembered her own dress perfectly, even if she would rather forget about it. But she had asked herself what kind of dress a young Croatian girl, especially one marrying Luka, would have worn.

Luka grinned and closed his eyes momentarily, as though reliving the moment he first saw her in it. "Lace. It was an ivory lace dress that her and her mother made together. The veil was all lace, too."

Abby watched Luka's face closely as he relayed this description. He smiled, and his whole face lit up. Part of her regretted asking, for the awkwardness it would create. Of course she could never measure up to that. She imagined Danjiella, a vision in _ivory_, practically an angel, breathtakingly beautiful, walking gracefully, a virgin, to Luka, the love of her life. And here she was: a middle aged mother, former alcoholic, committa-phobic who would only ever look _nice_, at best. Oh, and she certainly was not about to sew it up herself. The dress, that is. Her semi-daydream was interrupted by Luka's voice.

"Don't worry, it took her months to plan the wedding. She looked for a dress for 3 months before deciding to make it herself," Luka reassured.

Abby smiled within. She had had even more trouble than Abby, it seemed. Then she felt bad for feeling competitive with Luka's dead wife.

"I just think that maybe weddings today have gotten a little out of hand, and I don't want to be like that. I mean, we've both been married before. We both have busy jobs, and a son to raise. How could we have time to plan a wedding?" said Abby finally.

Luka frowned at Abby's turned face. "You're not backing out of getting married again, are you?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to start an argument.

Abby sighed. "No, I want to get married. I just think that I'm a little old for the traditional wedding thing. I know we said before that we were going to keep it low key, but I really mean it now. I don't care about a big ring, or what kind of food we eat. I don't really care if everyone from the ER, and the babysitter comes."

Luka grinned. "I totally agree. As long as we can have a honeymoon. We can have a honeymoon, right?"

"Definitely. I want beaches. Miles and miles of beaches," muffled Abby as her lips pressed against Luka's.


End file.
